


Parental Guidance

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How they ended up here, Dean will never know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parental Guidance

Five years ago, had anyone asked Dean Winchester where he thought he’d be at this particular moment, he would have most likely said something along the lines of _Ganking vampires in small-town Idaho._ He would not have said _Sitting on Sammy’s couch, drinking homemade lemonade and fending off the grubby fingers of three Winchester brats._

And yet here he is, perfectly civilised glass of lemonade in his hand (complete with pink straw and a chunk of ice) and a gaggle of terrible tots poking their sharp little fingernails inside Dean’s ears and stretching the one tiny rip in the denim of his jeans to an unholy size.

It vaguely occurs to Dean that he ought to be a little put-out, but even when baby Ellen shoves her fingers inside his mouth and pinches at his tongue he finds he only feels a mild twinge of amusement.

He removes her fingers from between his teeth and raises one eyebrow at her accusingly. She giggles and bounces up and down on his knee with gleeful abandon. At the same moment, Ellen’s two brothers make a gargantuan effort to pull off Dean’s left shoe.

Dean snorts, startled, and nearly chokes on his mouthful of lemonade. “Hey!” he protests, but the boys are already sprinting away, the spoils of their success held aloft between them.

From across the room Sam laughs, earning him a half-hearted glare from Dean. “Control your minions, Sammy,” he grunts, but Ellen presses her fingertips to Dean’s cheeks and pulls his lips into a smile shape. She chortles again and Dean rolls his eyes. “You’re cute,” he tells her, “but you’re also evil.” She grins, apparently delighted, and Dean slumps back in defeat.

Also sitting on the couch, watching the proceedings with undisguised amusement, is Cas. Dean catches his eye and makes a face that says _Help me_.

Naturally, Cas ignores it, feigning ignorance. He blinks innocently. “You’re her favourite,” he says. Sam clears his throat, blatantly affronted, and Cas shrugs. “It can’t be helped."

Dean puts his hands around little Ellen’s waist and sits her on the edge of his knee. “Alright, miss, I think it’s time for bed, don’t you?”

She shrieks and wriggles out his grasp, crawling into Cas’ lap. “No!” she yells. “Uncle Cas, don’t make me!” Her wide, doe-like eyes turn on Cas and Dean can see his resolve crumbling as easily as a sandcastle.

He pats her head fondly. “I think that’s up to your dad,” he says, ever the diplomat, and she pouts.

Sam checks the time on his watch. “Five more minutes, Ellie, and if you’re good, Dean and Cas will read you a bedtime story.”

She squeals in delight and leaps off Cas’ lap, scurrying away and to her bedroom. At the foot of the stairs she pauses and turns back. “Are you coming or what?” she says to the pair on the couch, her tiny foot stamping against the hardwood floor.

Dean grins and makes a show of standing up and stretching out his limbs. “Yeah, princess, we’ll be right up.” She scampers away and he holds out a hand to Cas, still smiling. “C’mon Uncle Cas,” he teases, “we better not test the kid’s patience or bad things will happen.”

Wisely, Cas agrees, and he takes Dean’s hand so they can climb the stairs together, fingers entwined.

 

Later, driving home, Cas twists around in his seat so he can angle his head towards Dean. He murmurs Dean’s name – softly, as if the very word is precious in his mouth.

Dean acknowledges him by grunting, his concentration focussed on the road ahead.

But Cas says his name again – more insistent this time – and he rubs at Dean’s shoulder with a warm palm. “Dean,” he says once more, and Dean finally meets his gaze.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want children?”

Dean’s eyes widen and he stares for so long that Cas has to gently remind him that he needs to look at the road. When they’re safely back on course, Dean pulls over to the grass verge and stops the car.

“What?” he asks dumbly, hands gripping the steering wheel tight.

Cas squeezes his shoulder. “We could have kids of our own. It would be hard, but I’m willing to try, and–“ he doesn’t finish his sentence, because at that moment Dean surges forward, and grabbing Cas by the collar he kisses him with such force that their teeth clack together loudly. When they break apart Dean is wide-eyed and panting.

“We would have to stop hunting,” he says. “We’d have to buy a house – a _real_ house. We’d need jobs that pay money and some seriously elaborate fake identities to even be considered for adoption.” He looks almost mad in the half-moon light. “It would be so hard, Cas; impossibly hard.” Dean bites his lip, face still inches from Cas’ own. “But I’ve never wanted anything so much in my _life_ , you hear me?”

Cas smiles. “We’ll find a way,” he murmurs, and kisses Dean again, slower this time. “There are many ways – many paths. You would be a great father, Dean, I have never been so certain of anything.”

“Hell yeah,” Dean says. “I’m awesome.”

They laugh and pull apart. Dean puts the car into gear and they move back onto the road, smiles as wide as Russia plastered across both their faces.

**Author's Note:**

> wexchester.tumblr.com


End file.
